


How Dost Thou, My Lord?

by Anotherlostblogger



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Elizabethan Era, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Bastardizing Shakespeare, F/M, M/M, Multi, Polyamory Negotiations, Power Dynamics, Ryan is Horatio this time, Sara is Ophelia, Shane is Hamlet, Yay hamlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:43:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23835463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anotherlostblogger/pseuds/Anotherlostblogger
Summary: Hamlet(ish)What if Hamlet (Shane) didn't believe in ghosts and got too distracted by his hot best friend and betrothed to seek revenge huh what if...that.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Sara Rubin, Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej, Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej/Sara Rubin, Shane Madej/Sara Rubin
Comments: 12
Kudos: 50
Collections: Buzzfeed Poly April, Shyanara Fest 2020





	How Dost Thou, My Lord?

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all see the new ep of Weird and/or Wonderful yet haha

Ever since the prince’s father died, things haven’t been the same in Los Angeles. 

The light had left his warm eyes, the smile from his fair face.

He had returned home from school not long ago for his father’s funeral, which had turned, in short order, to his mother’s wedding to his uncle.

Naturally, he hadn’t taken it very well.

“How dost thou, my lord,” Ryan asked, reminded again and again that he was to check in on him, to make sure that he hadn’t done anything to harm himself or the reputation of the kingdom.

Shane stood in his room by the window, dressed totally in black, from his doublet to his very boots. Ryan wished he would not mourn any longer, as he wanted to see his old friend happy again, but he honored and respected that he did.

“They’ve sent thee yet again to spy,” Shane sighed and Ryan felt his words color his cheeks. It had been hard enough, these past few years as they had taken their rightful place in the house. Ryan would never again be his playmate—they were wrong to think he would be his confidante.

”Spy my lord? No, my lord,” he said, though perhaps the prince was not entirely wrong. “Thou mother wishes that thou would seek thy betrothed and wish her well.”

”My mother and thee art aware that I cannot,” Shane said, finally turning to look at him. There were storms in his amber eyes and Ryan swallowed. He had always been a strange but handsome man, now so more than ever, brought out by his intensity. 

It was true that Shane’s correspondence with Sara had been cut short as of late—mostly because he had been so dour and unpleasant. He was, however unintentionally, ruining any connection he might have with his lady’s family.   
  
“If thou were to put on happier garb and speak of brighter things,” Ryan suggested, but Shane just stepped closer and closer to him until Ryan was stumbling back against the stone wall.

”Wouldst thou have me put on a farce and play pretend?" Shane asks, tilting his head like he was trying to understand him, see him closer, get under his very skin.

”No, my lord—“ Ryan stammered, trying to find a way out without offending. Shane had never been a violent man, but he, like any nobleman, carried a rapier at his hip.   
  
“Oh, sweet Ryan,” Shane mocked him. “With thy obsidian jeweled eyes and apples for cheeks—“ he tilted Ryan’s chin up with the crook of his finger and his servant grew dizzy with their closeness. “—thou art a spritely and pretty boy.” He pulls away and grabs Ryan by his garb, shoving him off and towards the door, and Ryan stumbles to regain his balance.

“Should not Ryan woo the maiden himself? I ask again, shouldst thou not, go and fetch a woman for thee.” 

“Dost thou mean the lady Sara?” Ryan manages, however dizzy. “With some speech I might woo her back for thee.”

“Stick thy sword in any sheath that’ll have thee,” Shane says, and the door is closed on his back.

****  
The lady Sara bore her sadness differently. She did not wear black, but her long purple gown, her curls pinned up at her nape. 

She wove flowers into crowns, kept idle hands busy with pretty work.

“I am sorry,” Ryan said to her again. “He is not well.”

”Didst he frighten mine baby bird?” Sara asks, and Ryan felt his face color yet again. Sara enjoyed to embarrass him with such compliments.

”The prince was angry,” Ryan admits, and Sara sighs and looks up from her new lilac circlet.   
  
“He might be,” she says. “I heard him speak of being a cuckold like his father.”

Ryan winced. “On my life, I only meant to help.”

”I know, sweet boy,” Sara says, and she gestures towards him to come. 

Ryan bows his head, and Sara places the fragrant crown on his head. 

“Who is this,” Sara gasps with exaggerated reverence as he tilts his head up to meet her gaze. “But a prince.”

”My lady,” Ryan complains, but he can’t help his smile. 

**** 

He did not mean to see Shane again that day. 

They has decided it would be better to wait until his temper had subsided and to plan a meal where Ryan might serve them both. He did not mind playing peacemaker, especially where it might bring them happiness.

The sun had gone down before Ryan had made his way to go back to his quarters and that is when he stumbled his way back into the prince.   
  
“I see thou hast taken my words to heart,” Shane said stiffly as Ryan righted himself, attempting to think of how he might dismiss himself from Shane’s company without another argument. 

“How now, my lord?”

“Thy circlet,” Shane said, and he fingered the crown of lavender and purple flowers that Ryan had utterly forgotten was upon his head.

Ryan’s face grew darker still. 

“It is Sara’s, then,” Shane said, judging his guilty features before Ryan can think to defend himself. “Pretty object from a pretty lady....” his eyes trailed from the crown to Ryan’s face, “for a pretty subject, I should have known.”

Ryan took it from his head, held the flower crown timidly towards him, a humble offering. 

”We were speaking of you, my lord,” Ryan assured him, “it is yours, in truth, as is her heart,” but Shane sneered.

“Keep it on thy head,” Shane said, placing it back upon Ryan’s skull. “It suits thee better.”

Then he made way to stroll on past. It was another missed opportunity to find Ryan on the end of Shane’s blade, but Ryan could not allow him to leave without further explanation.

”My lord,” he insisted, trying to block his way, “she loves thee—“

No sooner were those words out of his mouth than Shane’s was upon his.

He felt Shane’s lips press, dominating and insistent upon his own as surely as he felt those two large princely hands holding him steady for him as his highness kissed him.

He was gasping for air when it was done, and the prince left him there.

***

It was before dawn and Ryan stood out on the bridge with the soldiers, the morning guard.

It was hardly his duty, but he had not been able to sleep—and there had been some speech of a strange and wily spirit.

Anything to get his mind off of him.

”There,” a soldier said, grabbing Ryan by his sleeve. “There, that is he.”

”Canst thou tell us what thy wants?” Ryan asked the hidden spectre, peering into the fog. “Who art thou?”

“It is the king,” one solider muttered for another. “The murdered king.”

Ryan felt a thrill. “Matthias,” he scolded the man all the same. He might have said more when he saw the spirit, a veiled figure standing before them in the dark.

His knees grew weak, the soldiers held him aloft, motioned him to speak.

”Spirit,” Ryan cried, “dost thou know thy name? Speak it!”

But the morning sun appeared without any such speech.

”You must tell the prince,” the guards told him and Ryan resolved himself to do so.

****  
  
He found him by the graveyard, nearest the chapel, sitting by an open grave.

”My lord,” Ryan started. “I have terrible news.”

“I heard thou hast been speaking to spirits,” Shane mocked him, before reaching into the grave.

”Your Grace,” Ryan said, hoping to stop him, but not before the prince removed a skull and held it in his very hands.

Ryan paled.

”Horatio, I knew him well,” Shane said sardonically before his eyes fell upon Ryan’s countenance and he laughed. 

“My lord,” Ryan pleaded.

”This is all we have to look forward to,” Shane told him, gesturing to the skull, the grave. “No spirits,” he came over and, balancing the skull in one hand, ruffled Ryan’s hair with the other “no heaven.”

“Shane,” Ryan tried again, but Shane was interested in the skull again over himself.

”To be or not to be,” Shane sighed. “That is the question.” 

Ryan touched his lord’s shoulder, drawing the attention back upon himself. “Be, my lord,” Ryan said softly. “Thou can not speak of not being.”

Shane set the skull back, gently, to the ground by the grave and said, “Might I kiss thee?”

Ryan felt the floor leave his feet yet again. “Thou hast kissed me before,” he said timidly. “Thou art a prince who might take what he wants.”

“I might,” Shane agreed, advancing on him and Ryan shivered, his eyes closing in anticipation.   
  
He felt his hands face and even his breath but still, Shane did not kiss him. Ryan opened his eyes.   
  
“Tell me yes,” Shane spake quietly.

”Yes,” Ryan whispered and Shane kissed him. 

****

”How dost my little messenger dove?” Sara asks him upon their next meeting.   
  
“Well, my lady,” Ryan managed to say, but in his heart, he felt guilt eat at his conscience. He and the prince had traded kisses for much of the afternoon.

“Thou does not look well,” Sara perceived shrewdly. “Dost thou have a message for me?”

Ryan shifted his feet. 

He should lie.

”No my lady,” he says in truth. “Yet—“

Sara waited patiently.

”I have something to tell thee.”

****

When he was done, Sara looked more pensive than saddened, but Ryan still waited to be removed from her sight.

”Does he love thee?” Sara asks.

”I...do not know,” Ryan answered quietly.   
  
“I have a message for him,” Sara declared and Ryan eyed her timidly. 

“Yes, my lady?”

But Sara stepped forward and pulled Ryan down into a soft kiss.

Her hands were gentle against his face, and when they pulled away she looked so very loving Ryan was embarrassed to look at her.

”Tell that to your prince,” she said. “He might bear it better from thee.”

****

Ryan took dizzying steps up to Shane’s quarters, so dazed he did not, entirely, consider the time.

When Shane opened his door in a loose shirt, the drawstrings distractingly undone hung over his tights, Ryan lost the power of speech.

”Hast thou seen another ghost?” Shane asked him. “Dost thou need...comfort?” 

Ryan touched Shane’s face with no small amount of gentleness. Shane’s eyes, smiling and growing small, closed as Ryan kissed him so very softly. 

His eyes were still closed as if in prayer when Ryan spake. “That is from thy lady,” he said, voice shaking just a little.

When Shane’s eyes opened, the softness was replaced with an unnameable intensity. His hand was on Ryan’s wrist like a manacle, and he was drawn inside and half dragged half carried to be laid out on the prince’s bed.

”You want to be my lady?” Shane’s voice asked him in the dim light of the room, and Ryan gasped, as Shane shook at his doublet, undoing the laces and the latches with steady certain hands.   
  
He felt Shane’s sex swell up against his own, and Ryan could hardly speak.

Shane guided his hand to touch him, pulling himself out of his breeches, “Then serve me,” he said in a low rumbling growl and serve him Ryan did. 

****

Ryan hardly left the prince’s bed for a series of days.

He served him on his knees, bowing before his prince. He served him on his back, and in his lap, and in a whole series of contortions Ryan might not have thought possible.

Food was brought to Shane’s door and the prince would share it and then let himself back inside his servant who would serve him some more.

For a time he forgot Sara and her message, until the last time.

”You must give this to her,” Shane had said, sardonic as usual, and Ryan had blushed because the “this” in question was Shane’s grinding sex, fucking into him. 

****

Ryan bathed for a long time before he went to her.   
  
This time, Sara was weaving a picture on a loom, and she made him stand and wait for a while before acknowledging his presence.

“Is that Ryan?” she asked. “I hardly recognize thy countenance, it has been so long.”

”I’m sorry, my lady,” Ryan said, meaning it. “I was...delayed.”

”At least thee may not bear a child,” Sara spake and Ryan felt color rush to his face.

”My lady—“

”No,” Sara stopped her weaving to stand. “Thou hast another master. I trust he leaves thee satisfied?”

”Sara,” Ryan pleaded, but she approached him with such intent he took a step back.

”Where’s his message for me?” she asked him, full of daring.

”There wasn’t one,” Ryan stammered and Sara’s face grew more shrewd. 

“Liar.”

“I cannot give it to thee,” Ryan said, beseeching her to understand.

”I want it,” Sara insisted, “is it in thy gentleman’s breeches?”

Ryan swallowed hard. “Yes.”

Sara kissed him like nothing she had done before, hard and full of desire.

Ryan was helpless to the sway of it, to the press of her hand against him until he was suitably ready for her. She undid his breeches and he lifted her skirt and carried her up against the wall, a hand beneath each pale thigh.

The message was thoroughly given and thoroughly received.

***

“You have to marry her,” Ryan told him when he approached the prince again, out in the garden where neither might be distracted by items like walls or beds.

Shane plucked a flower from a bush and offered it to Ryan with a sweeping bow, “I have to marry thee,” Shane said and Ryan took it, more flustered than he wished to be.

”Madness,” Ryan said softly.

The prince took his hand and kissed it.

”I take it she enjoyed the message,” Shane teased him.

”Verily,” Ryan responded in truth.

”Then you might marry her,” Shane said, and he kissed him on each cheek. “I give thee my blessing.”

”My lord, she is yours,” Ryan pleaded. 

“I hardly know her, could hardly make her happy,” Shane responded. “You both would be happier without—“

”I will serve you both,” Ryan said sternly and Shane watched him in surprise. “Come to my lady’s for a meal tomorrow, see that you might feel differently.” 

****

With the lady Sara's help, the servants laid out an impressive spread of all sorts of things for feasting. 

Ryan was a little worried Sara's father might attempt to cease their meeting before it began, but thankfully the prince's...distraction as of late had changed him, hopefully, for the better.

"My father says he's like a man in love," Sara had said without accusing, and Ryan didn't have a thing to say. 

When Shane arrived, he wore his best doublet: red and green crushed velvet, and gold embroidery. 

"I see my lord dost not mourn," Sara said as she curtsied before her prince, and he took her hand as he bowed.

"No," Shane agreed, his honey eyes meeting Ryan's across the table. "Not any longer."

With haste, Ryan pulled out their chairs and offered to serve his masters, both.

****

Ryan stood near as they ate, hands folded carefully behind his back, mind somewhere in the ether to give them the privacy to speak and reconvene. It was only when he began to pay attention to tone again that he realized some tension had crept back into the room.

"I heard tell that you have had fun with my pet," Shane offered over his wine, and Ryan felt his face turn a similar color. 

"He is not your pet," Sara said, "Nor a toy."

"He is if I say he is," Shane said. He snapped his fingers, pointing towards the floor.

Without thought, Ryan fell to his knees. 

Shane took on an ironic smile, but Sara was not finished.

"This creature loves you," Sara insisted. Ryan could not meet either of their gazes.

"All the better," Shane said. "Thou can use him, but remember he is mine."

"You don't share your heart so easily," Sara said. "Is that why you lay him low?"

"My lady, I do not mind," Ryan offered timidly.

"If you want to be wed to me," Shane went on loftily, "this is part of it-_he_ is part of it, do you understand me?"

For a moment no one spoke.

"Of course," Sara said finally. "I would rather have a bed with him than without."

Shane stood, the sound loud in the room as he pushed his chair back, scraping against stone. "Is that what you say?"

"That is what I say," Sara said, and Ryan braced himself as Shane approached him, grabbing his garment, pulling him to his feet.

"Kiss her," he said. "_Accost_ her. I want to see."

"My lord," Ryan said, attempting to push back into Shane, but the prince would have none of it. Sara just smiled.

Almost shaking, Ryan bent at the waist and kissed her at her seat. She put a hand on his face, and he forgot his fear.

When they pulled back, Ryan almost had forgotten the prince.

Shane looked like he had finally seen a ghost for himself: but for once he did not appear to be angry. Instead, he sat, shakily himself, back in his chair, looking for all the world like someone had finally got his tongue. 

"You will sit down with us," Sara said, still holding Ryan's face, "and eat."

Ryan found a seat, somewhere near Sara's end of the table, and ate.

****

Ryan was now their official chaperone, to follow his lord and lady until their wedding, which was approaching rapidly now. Once the wedding was over, he would remain their man, but for now, he had to keep the flames of passion from overriding them and spoiling the marriage bed.

Surely a job he was up for. 

He strolled with them in the garden, prepared picnics, and dinners, attended with them, private concerts, and shows. Slowly the prince's suspicion seemed to melt, and he and Sara turned their acerbic tongues to better use.

Ryan was fetched for, on different occasions, to be a bedfellow for either of his masters.

The royal couple, for their part, did not sleep together until their wedding night. The light had been back in Shane's eyes, and Ryan wondered how much longer he might be of any use to them. 

His mission was surely achieved.

****

Their wedding was beautiful. Even Shane's uncle-would-be-father didn't spoil it. Ryan was given new clothes, not quite as fine, but very fine indeed, and his lord and lady seemed, by troth, to be happy.

After the feasting was done, Ryan went to their room, as had been requested. 

He wondered if they might have changed their mind, but smiling they welcomed him in. 

The first time that night was the new couple, and Ryan watched them consummate their marriage on a bed full of white, with Sara's breasts still bound and pretty in her corset. Shane was so very large and she was so very small, it was both beautiful and shocking to behold.

Once the prince had sown himself inside her, Ryan was welcomed into the bed, and they took their turns undressing him and kissing him in equal measure, both in varied states of undress, and both wanting his attention at the very same moment. 

Sara kissed his mouth and Shane his neck. 

Ryan took Sara next, and then, when Shane was ready, he took him, too. Each time, the other half of the married couple would watch and stroke their hair and speak in soft tones saucy words that made them come that much faster to the edge. 

Ryan was not sure what he had done to deserve this but was overwhelmed with gratefulness instead.

After they were done, they lay there, panting, in only their skin and jewelry atop silk sheets. 

Shane fingered Sara's corset, which had been laid to the side, and eyed Ryan shrewdly. "I would have you in this," he said, to make Ryan gulp and squirm. "Thou art as pretty as any maid."

"I'm sure I can find one that fits," Sara added, and Ryan realized he was now stuck with two devils instead of one. 

"But for now..." the prince grew momentarily shy, fiddling with the different rings on his hands, including his newest wedding band. Then, he leaned forward, sat up, and took Ryan's palm in his own.

Shane kissed Ryan's hand and placed, upon it, his signet ring, a symbol of being his favorite, and more. Ryan cried. Shane cradled him to himself and kissed his face, rubbing his tears from his cheeks, and said, "On my life, I would that I might wed thee, too."

"My little dove," Sara cooed over him, and Ryan let himself be petted and cooed over. "By my troth, and I would wed thee, also," Sara said, and she placed on his other hand, an emerald ring, a courtly favor, and together they kissed his tears away.

Exhausted, Ryan fell asleep among his royals. But the night was still young: their lives still not over.

Things weren't the same in the kingdom of Los Angeles any more... they were better.


End file.
